


come live with me (and be my love)

by HereComeDatBoi



Series: you're the one that's making me strong [19]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Honeymoon, Introspection, M/M, Married Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Married Life, Relationship Advice, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 20:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20516060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereComeDatBoi/pseuds/HereComeDatBoi
Summary: “Takashi?” Adam whispered, sounding like part and parcel of the breeze outside as he pushed a stray hair out of Shiro’s face. “What are you thinking about, moonlight?”“I was afraid, before the wedding,” he confessed, taking Adam’s hand between his and pressing a kiss to the tip of each calloused finger. “Afraid that I wasn’t going to be a good husband to you, I guess. I kept thinking of how we used to be, and you shouldering everything all alone, and thinking I was going to let it happen again.“But now―being yours, for you―it feels as easy as breathing."In which Adam and Shiro tie the knot, and finally get their honeymoon.





	come live with me (and be my love)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for Espy_Ninja: psithurism, the sound of wind rustling leaves, and scrosciare, the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs. Hope you enjoy! ^-^

Being married was so familiar it was almost strange, sometimes. It was only natural when two people grew into each other as beautifully as he and Adam had, Shiro thought―their seven years together before the war were as good a practice run as anyone could hope for, given that they shared absolutely everything and knew each other almost better than they knew themselves. They had signed their marriage certificate only three days after the Atlas returned to the Garrison, but their actual wedding was set for later that fall, and Shiro was determined to start them off on the right foot from the day of the wedding itself. Doubt and misunderstanding and thoughtlessness belonged in the past, he decided. None of them were welcome in his future, or in the home he hoped to build, or least of all anywhere near the love of his life. 

Thus, Shiro had gone around asking every married person he knew for advice in the month before the ceremony, right from his grandparents (who were absolutely delirious with joy at the prospect of finally,  _ finally  _ getting to see him tie the knot and gave him a long list of suggestions about everything from storing linens to making up after fights) all the way down to Lance and Keith, who were bathing Allura’s mice in a bucket of water with Kosmo in the tub close by when he clattered into their apartment in something close to a panic. 

“Why are you asking us?” wondered Lance, grabbing Kosmo by the tail and working a scoop of pet shampoo into his fur. “You’ve been married longer than we have.”

“Only five minutes longer, Lance. And I still don’t agree with how it happened, just so you know. Blackmail isn’t the right way to start a life together, no matter who you’re blackmailing.”

“It’s not our fault Iverson’s addicted to Jaffa cakes. Or that he was willing to officiate a teenage wedding to stop that from getting out.”

“Wait, what?” Shiro blinked. “ _ That’s  _ what you blackmailed him with―oh, never mind the Jaffa cakes. I need advice on how to be a good husband, stat.”

Keith dropped his bar of soap and then promptly slipped on it, crashing to the floor in a billow of orange suds as Kosmo leaped onto his chest. “What?” he groaned. “Shiro, we’ve had this exact conversation before. In reverse, when you gave  _ me  _ advice after Lance and I eloped. You and Adam are literally already married, it’s just the ceremony next week.”

“Plus you guys lived together for like six years before Kerberos,” Lance pointed out. “You already know how to do all the boring stuff like chores and finances. And how to be a team for your kids, if that’s what’s freaking you out. You’d both be great dads, I promise.”

“By kids, do you mean me?” said Keith dryly, fishing Platt out of his shirt and dropping him back into the bucket. “You do know I’m only five years younger than them now?”

“I still haven’t forgotten the vitamin chart Adam stuck on the front of your algebra binder, babe. That’s a mom thing and you know it.”

“Stop flirting!” Shiro protested. “I’m being serious here. I messed up big time with Adam when we were younger, and I don’t want to do it again. That’s why I’m asking for your help, I left him  _ heartbroken  _ and I, I can’t―”

“Whoa, slow down.” Lance held up his hands. “Are you talking about how your relationship was in the last few years? Like, with you chasing after your career and Adam putting his on hold to support you and help when you were sick and take care of Keith? And you gallivanting off to the asteroid belt for six months at a time and making Adam so lonely that he slept on the couch until you came back?”

Shiro’s heart sank. It sounded so, so much worse now that someone was saying it aloud, and for a moment he wondered if Adam was making a mistake―if he really was good for nothing better than what he used to be, if Adam would be happier just calling it off and moving back home like he would have done after  _ graduation,  _ if Shiro hadn’t begged him to stay.

“Way to go, ae-in,” said Keith, unimpressed. “You broke him.”

“Shush,  _ mi cielo.  _ He’s not broken, just thinking.”

“That’s how I know he’s broken!”

“You’re right,” Shiro breathed, feeling a lump rise in his throat as he remembered how tired Adam had looked back then, how he passed up mission after mission after Keith came along and then requested to be grounded except for emergencies, how it was always Adam who called in sick to work when Keith came down with the flu, brushing off the teenager’s complaints that he was  _ not a baby  _ and didn’t need someone to fuss over him―how Shiro never had to refuse a single jaunt into space because Adam was holding down the fort at home, managing the bills and the house and everything else that came with adulthood. “This is a mistake, I’m going to let him down again and―”

“Did you get your love of self-condemnation from him,  _ mi alma? _ ”

“As much as it pains me to say it, yes. And Shiro, quit panicking. Are you going to ditch Adam for space after the wedding?”

“Absolutely not, but―”

“Are you going to ignore his feelings?”

“No!”

“Are you going to let him put all the work into your marriage?”

“Never,” said Shiro hotly, crossing his arms and glaring at his brother. “Keith, marriage is a commitment _ , _ you just don’t let one person do everyth―oh.” He glared harder. “I see what you did there. But that doesn’t change the fact that I did just that, before.”

“Look,” sighed Keith. “Did you realize what you were doing before?”

“No,” Shiro faltered, ducking his head in shame. “I didn’t understand how stressed he was, or that when he came home late it was because he took an extra half-hour in his office to cry where Keith and I couldn’t see him. I was all wrapped up in myself and broken over being sick and having to give up everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and I didn’t even notice what Adam was going through. He kept saying it was fine, but that’s no excuse. We were partners, and I failed him.”

“Good.” Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now that you  _ know  _ that, don’t you think it might be a bit easier to stop yourself from doing it again?”

Shiro suddenly felt very foolish. 

“Oh.”

“Just stop thinking about it so much, you’re going to be fine,” soothed Lance. “Marriage isn’t all work, anyway. It’s equal parts fun, and going into it all stressed over making a mistake isn’t going to do either of you any favors. Have the wedding, make sure you relax on your honeymoon, and take each day as it comes when you get back. It’ll look a lot better once you don’t have to deal with guests and florists and caterers calling you left and right, I promise.”

“I think the whole Garrison’s invited themselves at this point,” said Shiro feebly. “I’m just praying none of the twelve-year-olds get into the champagne, honestly. Harding’s five-nine and shaves, and I just know someone’s going to give him access to the drinks and start a riot. And once he does it’s a given that Carmichael and Ganbold get some too, and then it’ll all be downhill from there.”

“Leave the kid-wrangling to us and just enjoy your wedding day,” Keith insisted. “I’m bringing my Marmora blade to the reception, so―”

“Keith, no.”

“Keith  _ yes. _ ”

* * *

The wedding went off without a hitch in the end, though Shiro never dared wonder how much of that was due to Keith talking about his weaponry collection at every lull in the conversation. Jasper Harding from the first-year pilot class did indeed end up stealing a bottle of champagne and opening it under one of the buffet tables, but the poor cadet found it so sour that he fed it all to Kosmo, who made Shiro’s night by teleporting straight onto Slav’s head in a fit of delighted intoxication while Matt set off a whole truckful of fireworks in the background. 

And then he and Adam went on their honeymoon, to the little bungalow in Shindola that Adam’s late father had left them. 

They spent the first two days tramping through the woods and visiting all the swimming holes they could find before packing up their clothes and fleeing back to the house when a gang of small children from the village showed up and demanded their turn with the best one, a wide green pool about twenty-four feet across and so beautifully clear that Shiro could count the tiny crabs trundling along at the bottom. He had been more than a little unhappy to leave it, though that had less to do with the loveliness of the place and more about the fact that Adam hadn’t stopped kissing him once after they jumped in. 

But the third day brought dark grey skies and sheets of icy rain, which was unusual for both the time of year and the climate in general. Neither he nor Adam minded in the slightest, though―the weather might have curtailed their hikes through the woods, but it was finally cold enough to curl up in each other’s arms and build a blanket fort, which was what they did after Shiro tried his hand at making breakfast and produced two very passable omelets and a stack of golden hash browns to go with their sweet milk coffee. Adam had never been able to drink it black, and after his doctors told him to cut back on caffeine Shiro had lost his taste for the stuff completely; there were better motivations to prod him awake in the mornings, most notably his then-boyfriend’s warm arms and the thought of eating grilled salmon with a bowlful of  _ miso-shiru. _

Shiro tugged Adam closer to his chest and swallowed a bit of hash brown, heart filling up with something sweet and heady as Adam leaned back on his shoulder and gazed out the rain-spattered window. The wind streaming through the mango trees growing around the house sounded almost like music, and the raindrops striking the pebbly path leading into the fields were like so many dancing feet drumming out a salsa in celebration; everything under the sun seemed new and fresh to him, now that the two of them had said their vows in the way of their own respective cultures. 

He cast a shy glance at his husband through his eyelashes and remembered how his lips had burned during the  _ san-san-ku-do  _ part of the Shinto ceremony, when they landed on the same smooth curve of porcelain that had just brushed Adam’s tongue. There had been the slightest hint of strawberry chapstick on the rim of the cup, and when he tasted it mingled with the  _ sake  _ it had felt like a moment of marriage in itself...just as it did when he fed Adam a bite of sweetmeat at the close of the Gujarati ceremony, and felt his new bridegroom smile against his fingers before taking the mouthful and sitting upright again. Perhaps that was what it meant, to be married: making a promise with every touch, each word, each meeting of eyes―all of it sacred and beautiful beyond measure, no matter what exactly they were doing and how mundane it might be. 

“Takashi?” Adam whispered, sounding like part and parcel of the breeze outside as he pushed a stray hair out of Shiro’s face. “What are you thinking about, moonlight?”

“I was afraid, before the wedding,” he confessed, taking Adam’s hand between his and pressing a kiss to the tip of each calloused finger. “Afraid that I wasn’t going to be a good husband to you, I guess. I kept thinking of how we used to be, and you shouldering everything all alone, and thinking I was going to let it happen again. 

“But now―being yours, for  _ you _ ―it feels as easy as breathing, sunshine. Like I’m carrying you with me in everything I do, and everything I say, and  _ know  _ that I’m doing the right thing for both of us, together. I’m not uncertain anymore, I just―”

He paused and touched the line of scarlet still fading in Adam’s hair, remembering what it had felt like when he first brushed it on three days earlier. His breath caught in his lungs at the sight of it, as it did at every outward sign that they  _ belonged  _ together―at the new rings sparkling on his left hand and Adam’s right, at the henna painted on their palms and feet, and even the heavy gold necklaces from the reception lying on the nightstand with Adam’s diamond earrings. There was no end for them now, he realized; there could never be, whether in that world or the next or whatever might come after.

“Do you feel like that too,  _ janu?” _ Shiro croaked, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as Adam dabbed at his eyes. “Like everything’s just fallen into place somehow, or something?”

Adam nodded and put his arms around Shiro’s waist, snuggling closer to his side as the wind picked up its pace against the windows. 

“My place is with you,” he murmured. “That’s all I need to know, or feel. I’m yours.”

Shiro’s throat tightened again. 

“Me too,  _ koishii.  _ Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr/twitter at @datboicomehere!


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